


Just like a stranger with the weeds in your heart

by 35391291



Series: The sound of the sea [3]
Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 12:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11185464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/35391291/pseuds/35391291
Summary: The sea takes a deep breath. It sounds like home.A short story about a new North and a new home.





	Just like a stranger with the weeds in your heart

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from [Time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2bZ_eG5OmWU), by Tom Waits.

_We think we're fireproof,_   
_we never think that we'll get burned;_   
_We sail on fireships,_   
_we never think, so we'll get burned._

_Straight for the eye of the hurricane,_   
_down to the last eye tooth_   
_we never think that we'll get burned,_   
_we think we're fireproof._

\- Peter Hammill: [Fireships](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SE-Nfsi5VDc).

*

It starts with a mirror, a spell in silence. There are feathers that fall out of nowhere. And the sea, that old pathway. Here, there is a new idea of home, of the sky wild and alive. Listening.

Above the water, the clouds rise quietly, like mountains. The sky is beautiful and overwhelming, full of crows. They have to turn their back on it for a moment, but they can still feel it. And one day, they will be strong enough. To face it again, to speak to it. One day, he will be back. They know. They can wait.

The song of the sea sails along a thousand wings on fire. It lives in their skin, where the waves draw perfect needles and lines. Every symbol is tied to a memory, a moment, a turn of the tide. And something still lives in the back of their memory, like a dream wading along in the night. It is dark and unknown, but not a threat. Not anymore. It is sharp and tender, like the heartbeat they cradle carefully, so close to their own. Warm and bright and real. A small flickering flame, a star, a fireship. Almost burning, like hope.

This is their new North. These two men who used to be shadows are now learning to be something else. Learning to walk, to feel, to take flight. One day, they will go far, too far from here. It is no matter, because home is always somewhere new. Always deep within.

One day, the small chill of the night will wipe away every the tear. The dust will settle, the wind will whistle back. And it will be time to stop. At last.

At last, magic feels right, hiding safely in their hands. It sounds like a long forgotten prayer. A little bit foreign, but just right. It lives in their mouth, like a stone or a bird. It calls them, and the sky calls them back. They feel the pull of the earth, stepping out of mist and dreams. There are so many anchors here, so many truths. Thick rock and salt, fire and wound. The sea takes a deep breath. It sounds like home. And there is a lovely world out here.


End file.
